


Interloper

by Rellah



Series: The Mask of Sanity [1]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, College, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, Family Issues, Gen, Isolation, Major Original Character(s), Mystery, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, POV Third Person Limited, Psychology, Thriller
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 13:07:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11185755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rellah/pseuds/Rellah
Summary: After surviving an attack that occurred at an unsecured Alliance colony by a slave gang, 21-year-old Paxton Harbor takes it upon himself to figure out what happened and discover who has been targeting himself and his family.While Paxton tries to piece together clues of the colonial attack and a mysterious person who keeps sending him threatening messages, he attends an elite university on the Citadel, Asha Institute, and deals with the pressures of the faculty, workload, and the students who surround him.A belligerent, domineering roommate, Arcadius Ataraxia, and an aggressive, cold sister, Alexandria, push Paxton out of his quiet, fearful shell and leave him reeling with the knowledge of who he actually is.With the increasing levels of violence, threats, and adversity, Paxton finds out the secrets of his family, his friends, and the mysteries that surround him.As the mask of sanity falls from his face, will Paxton be able to figure out the clues before another strike by the gang destroys his family, his friends, and the web of lies he's entangled himself in?





	Interloper

“THE WORLD IS ENDING! A woman with her hands shaped around her face in an ‘O’ formation shouted. She ran away as her floppy dress flung behind her. To the neighborhood, she went and screeched her larynx out. “THEY’RE FROM ABOVE!”

After the woman’s warnings, the blue sky above had begun to grow dimmer, shifting into a bleak and gloomy gray. The ground below started to have tremors from the stampede created by the people’s fears. Within an instant, flying saucers flew down from the sky. Red beams flung out from the saucers, creating a spectacle of explosions in the neighborhood.

Some people grabbed their guns, or took their dogs, or took their family and hobbled into a car, and others hid away inside a closet to pray. All they knew was their world was shattering from above, and they could do absolutely nothing about it.

Extended past the neighborhood was a city, with glorious skyscrapers that soared into the sky. Now those skyscrapers were being bombarded with red beams being shot at them. The air in the world had grown heavy and black, it clogged people’s throats as they tried to breath. Houses, lawns, and buildings all burned down with an intense, deep, and voracious fire--

“Tasteless.” He murmured, quickly swiping the old black and white human vid off from his tablet. He shook his head while bringing up a mug of decaf coffee to his mouth. When he sat the, now empty, mug onto the table, he scanned his eyes around the café.

In the café were groups of colonists who were huddled around tables laughing and clinking their mugs. There were a few lovers who were united under a band of lights dangling from the ceiling. Then other people who were making small talk as they ate their meals at the counter. 

Alone in the corner of the café sat the 21-year-old Paxton Harbor. To Paxton, ending up alone in a café with an, also, empty mug of coffee seemed romantic in a way to him. He stared down into the transparent mug, it glistened with reflections from the room. Looking into the bottom of it, besides dried of bits of coffee, Paxton could see himself staring back. In the reflection was two large childlike eyes blinking back at him. One eye a stormy, icy gray and the other an oceanic, wintery blue. Tied around Paxton’s head was a purple bandanna, it was tied around his head and it covered up most of his hair. Although, two locks of dark brown came out from the top of the bandanna and spilled out to each either side of his face. The bandanna was plain, it lacked any patterns, it was a pure purple.

The café smelled of freshly baked goods, grinded coffee beans, and a cinnamon scent that spread out from the bakery section. The faces of the colonists were bright, their smiles stretching along their faces, forever. It was only a wonder to Paxton if these people’s faces hurt after an hour. All except for one.

She stood behind the counter wearing a dark green apron, she had tan skin and wavy long black hair that was shaved at the side of her head. She was young, around Paxton’s age, and had a smile on her face that didn’t use her eyes. Her laugh lines showed around her grin. No one around her seemed to stop by, except when they were giving her their order. Paxton saw the little twitch in her smile, the force in her perky eyebrows and bright features.

They exchanged glances, then Paxton forced his down to his tablet and picked up his stylus from the table. The tablet was in the shape of a long rectangle with a shiny black border and a glowing blue screen. Paxton opened a section in his tablet where his journal entries were. He then started to make elegant, quick scribbles on the holographic screen. He fiercely traced the stylus along the screen where he made fast lines of words appear.

            _July 9, 2180_

_Did she see me? I really hope not, I hope she doesn’t think that I’m stalking her or something. Glances are just glances, no one pays any attention to them, right? The shaved haired girl doesn’t seem to care, though she seems like she doesn’t care about much. Well, the people around her don’t. It’s weird, Proserpina is supposed to be the grandiose highlight of humans’ colonization. ~~Like are the people around here are so self-serving that they forget about others’ suffering?~~  I don’t know, she just seems so sad—_

“Do you need a refill? They’re only half a credit.” The shaved haired girl a stinging apathy in her voice. In her hand was a jar of brewed coffee which had steam flying from the lid. Paxton slowly shook his head as he tugged at the cuffs of his long sleeved purple shirt. She tilted her head with a sigh and looked across the room, then turned her head back to Paxton. “You’re not from here, are you?”

With a quiet voice, Paxton responded; “No…”

“What? I didn’t hear you.”

With a burning in face and knots forming between his fingers, Paxton spoke louder with a shakiness in his voice. “N-No, I’m not from here…why?”

“Well, everyone around here is smiles all the time, it’s like Christmas in July is actually happening for them. Except you. For the past week and a half, I’ve seen you come in here every day and sit in this little corner all by yourself. Never talking to anybody.” She flicked the lid open and coffee poured into Paxton’s mug. With a wink, she put her finger up to her lips. “You’re like me.”

“Oh, well, um, you’re too nice.” Paxton replied. “So, you’re not from Proserpina?”

“I’m supposed to be on the Citadel, that’s where I go to college. I’ve done my field study with Alliance techies and I’ve got to go back home.” She shook her head. “The school forget what they were doing and gave me a one-way ticket and won’t pay for another trip. My parents can’t afford my trip. Now I’m trying to make ends meet by living off tips. Spending on hotel rooms gets costly.” She sighed. “I only need about three hundred more credits to leave.”

“I hope everything works out then.”

“You and me both, choker guy.” She laughed, pointing at Paxton’s black choker that hugged around his neck. It was moderately sized, soft, and had a sliver ring in the middle. As Paxton’s face brightened to a red hue, she waved bye and went back to standing behind her counter and he went back to writing.

            _Wow, my stalker-ness actually payed off for me. Free coffee, quick conversation, I mean what else could I ask for? I mean, I did get a new name, ‘choker guy’, definitely not the worst one. All in good fun, for once. I guess. ~~I mean~~. Wait, already said that twice._

After a several minutes of sheepish sipping, Paxton sat the coffee-less mug on the table. Where his tablet laid a small ring buzzed briefly and the screen glistened with a new notification. Taking the tablet in his hands, a message was strung along the screen. Its contents were a simple greeting, _Hello._ The sender’s address blocked from Paxton’s sight, the only title was only two characters, SF.

Confused, Paxton swiped the message aside, deleting it from his device. He then took his tablet and stylus into his purple messenger bag and slung it across his body.

Paxton stood up from the chair and started to pace towards the counter, where the shaved haired girl stood indefinitely. On the counter was a kiosk, he pressed in a few numbers on the screen. Paxton glanced back at her, then back the screen, then back at her, when he finally rested his eyes on the screen he added a few extra credits.

“Uh, dude, your price is only three credits, you put in 300 credits for a tip.” Her voice trailed off as Paxton shrugged his shoulders while giving a slight smile. Her face became even more pale than it already as her mouth dropped from her jaw. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

“Last flight to the Citadel leaves in four hours, so…”

Inside the café, a scream erupted. The scream made people who were seated jolt, and one unfortunate man fall from his chair. People from the outside raised their brows as they peered into the window. The shaved haired girl almost jumped across the counter, she squeezed Paxton close. He gave a few soft pats on her heaving back as she sucked the life from his thin body.

After her bear hug, she proclaimed her thanks to Paxton and then tossed off her apron and started to stomp on it.

“O, I hate this place. O, I hate these people. O, I love myself!” She sang with great joy as she took a coffee jar and poured coffee over her apron.

After smashing the glass coffee jar on the floor, a gruff man came almost busted down a door when he came out from a door with ‘Manager’ written on it. She swiped on her screen and completed the transaction, then she pointed at the man and made an ‘L’ with her fingers.

“YOU’RE FIRED! NEVER COME BACK!” The Manager screamed, his voice whipping with anger and face red like a strawberry.

“I’M NEVER COMING BACK TO THIS PLANET IN THE FIRST PLACE!” She laughed like a child. She then ran out of the doors and raced down the street where another yell emerged from her; “THANK YOU, CHOKER GUY!”

Paxton gave a discriminate wave with his hand, everyone’s eyes turned towards him. They just stared at him like owls, watching his every move—or lack of movement. With red in his race, Paxton gave a forgiving smile and held onto the strap of his bag.

“I’m just gonna, uh, I have to go somewhere.” Paxton said with a small voice as he pointed with his thumb towards the door. The Manager’s face had a sneer that was touching the floor, his hands were squeezed into fist. He dragged his hand over his face and stomped back into his office, where he slammed the door.

With his black boots, Paxton sheepishly walked over the glass and out the door. He was greeted with the whip of the wind, the bright sun warmed his body as he walked down the street.

Proserpina, to Paxton, was one of the most beautiful places he’s been. The blue sky stretched for miles across the sky, the lack of clouds made the sun glimmer across the pavement. The Alliance’s newest colony felt like summer to Paxton; the temperature was warm but not hot. Green, lush hills sloped down into reflective water. It was paradise.

Much to Paxton’s surprise, Proserpina’s defenses were not as dominant and forthcoming as he expected. Boarding along the Terminus Systems, Proserpina enjoyed a safe cluster of people living their lives without any fear of any attack. To Paxton, it must’ve been patriotism and strong sense of futility to ward off any attack these colonists had, but weariness roared in his head.

Paxton stood at the edge of a market square, he paced back into a forested area and slumped against a tree, where he looked around at the square’s colonists. Whether they be book stores, florists selling plants, or simple boutiques where middle aged woman dragged their husbands in; there was a sense of hominess and nostalgia stirring inside of him.

In the square, a platform was being set up. A small stage that stood upright against with the background, with it being the bustling shopping district of Proserpina and the surrounding fields and tram ways that swerved around. On the stage, chairs were being arranged in rows and a glass lectern that was stationed in the middle. Its circular seal was then pressed on; the Alliance logo with the title swirling around it: THE SECRETARY-GENERAL OF THE SYSTEMS ALLIANCE.

Paxton looked towards the forest and found an empty, desolate dirt path. Taking a walk down the path, Paxton let the leaves under his crunch and let the wind take his hair and flow it behind him. Furthering himself away from the people and into the quiet woods, Paxton hummed as the loudness of the market square faded into the background. Sitting on the ground, Paxton put his back against a fallen log of a tree and took out his tablet and stylus, again.

            _This. Quietness and peace, alone with myself from them. Nothing can beat spending time alone on colony light years away from home. I hope that shaved haired girl gets back to the Citadel, I’d hate for her to stranded here. Paradise is paradise until someone takes Proserpina to the Underworld._

_Looks like I’ve been taken to the Underworld because I probably won’t be allowed back in the café. Maybe I should’ve stayed in the café and cleaned up that mess, it’s partially my responsibility, I did cause it. Or at least I should pay for a new jar for them, it seems fair at least. I feel bad for it, it’s not right for others to have clean up the mess I’ve made—look at this, maturation before my eyes, the Secretary-General would be proud._

Across his arm, an orange light glowed. It buzzed with a slight vibration. Raising his arm, the Omni-Tool ringed with a message. Across the holographic screen, read a message her name. Paxton let his frustration fly out his mouth a sigh, he opened the message from _her_.

_Do I need to have my eyes surgically stitched onto you so you don’t do anything stupid? Be at the tram stop, I’ll be at Platform 4. We’re heading back, now._

Rolling his eyes, Paxton shook his head and threw his tablet and stylus into his bag. He laid on the ground for a moment, glaring upwards at the leaves hanging over him. The light pushed itself through every crack in between every leaf, it created a spectacle of spotted light glistening over him and leaving parts of him left in the dark. On his face was a fight between it wanting to droop with a frown or be pulled back with contempt. He settled with blankness, for it required no effort.

There was something about this forest, this little dirt path with trees looming over Paxton that made him feel a sharp twang of memories flowing into his mind. It blurred between mismatched emotions, there was twist in his stomach and his hair started to stand. His eyes darted upwards and downwards, they threw themselves across the forest’s ceiling. Paxton sighed, he shoved his body upwards, slung his bag across his body, and exited the forest.

Paxton shuffled himself back onto a concrete pathway down by the market square. With calmer breaths, he briskly walked down the side of the square and found himself on a way towards the tram station. He shook his head, with that, the memories of the forest found its way out from his mind. Looking at a sign on the street, it pointed towards his arrival at the tram station. Now ingrained into Paxton’s mind was _her_.

 _Her._ Just the very thought of _her_ made Paxton keep his head down, hunch his shoulders, and walk slower. Anything was better, to Paxton, than dealing with _her._ Not even after 21 years of forced togetherness, Paxton could stand to be near _her._ In his stomach, he felt as if there was two people playing tug-of-war. It’s twisting only increased as he became closer to the tram stop.

Walking through the lightly secured open station, which also acted as a spaceport. Multiple platforms stood with groups of people huddled around each other and looking towards a screen of which galactic news rolled out into their minds. They watched either sneering at the faces at the faces of non-humans, and subsequently groaning, or shrugging their shoulders and pointing their eyes at the time on the screen, groaning too at the times they’ll arrive home.

The pavement below him clicked from him dragging his boots, his fair skin became even paler when he saw _her_ standing at Platform 4. She stood with her arms crossed, her crimson slips on dress shoes tapping against the ground, and with a bite in her bottom lip. A bottom lip with one vertical streak of red lipstick in the middle.

She glowed of a deep crimson, snug around her body was a sleeveless, high collared crimson jumpsuit that had a thin dark belt around her waist. Her dark brown hair had slight waves in it, she brushed it off her face with the flick of her finger and readjusted her arms into a cross. With a twist of her head, she glared at Paxton with her steely, intense grey eyes. Rung around her eyes was black mascara, shaped like a cat’s eyes. Like a cat, her glare searched into Paxton’s being—it was as if she was plotting a mission in her head.

Her name is Alex Harbor.

Standing next to Alex, Paxton held onto the strap of his bag, he clutched towards his chest and kept his eyes pointing down at his boots. He could feel her watching him, staring with a blank face and then shaking her head. She put her hands on her hips and gazed off into the distance of other platforms, keeping her head held high with a begrudged frown on her face.

“I have a question,” Alex said with a flat but loud voice, her face still pointing away from Paxton’s sight. “how much do sob stories cost?”

“I-I, I’m not— “

“Great,” She sighed, crossing her arms while shaking her head. “because losing 300 credits to a person that _you_ don’t know is always a _fantastic_ way to throw away money down the drain.” Paxton looked back at her, his face confused and his eyebrows raised at different lengths. He looked as if he wanted to speak, but his mouth remained shut. Alex glared back at him, only shifting her eyes towards him. “When some random person comes humming about some ‘Choker Guy’ saving her life, you make an educated guess and hope for the best.”

Paxton kept his head and shoulders slouched down, he ran his fingers along the strap of his bag and locked them around the very end. In his field of vison, he saw Alex’s fingers snap and then point up towards her eyes. He followed suit, and saw that Alex had her brows rested above her eyes and had blank face.

“Now Pax, if you really want to help people out you probably know _who_ you’re helping rather than _what_ you’re helping. Not every noble cause carries a noble person. Yes?”

“Yes, Alex.” Paxton talked with a penetrating quietness. “I’m sorry, I’ll try to do better next time.”

“Don’t be sorry to me,” Alex scoffed, twisting her head back to the tram. “be sorry towards your bank account.”

As soon as Alex looked towards the tram, Paxton could feel the slight vibration of tablet from his bag. With discretion, he slid out his tablet from his bag and saw another notification from the same sender from before, SF. They’re message, again, had a similar greeting from before, _Hello._ Paxton sighed, deleting the message again and bringing himself back to the tram in front of him.

Paxton and Alex stood in silence next to each other at the edges of the platform for the rest of their time, never looking back into the other Harbor’s direction. Standing next to each other, they were almost identical—same height at 5’10, same dark brown hair with little waves, same oval face with rounded jaw, same average build and fair skin, and their faces were practically indistinguishable. Besides their eyes and obvious physiological differences of their sex, the two 21-year-olds looked eerily similar.

If seconds turned into hours and minutes turned into days, they stood for a good three days and five hours. The sleek white and red popped in front of each platform, each platform having a small passageway that rolled out from the tram, connecting it to the tram. The Harbors walked like slugs, dragging themselves onto the tram. When they walked down the tram, they sat in seats separate from each other in an aisle, both shifting themselves towards the windows.

With the tram moving now, Paxton slumped against the window, his face pressing against it while he stared out into the Proserpina landscape. Becoming smaller with every second, he saw the central hub of the colony zip away into nothingness, now all the remained was miles of green trees and lush landscapes. Standing strikingly was the acrologies; needle like structures that soared into the sky for miles, housing the colonists on Proserpina, and the Harbors.

He turned his head towards his sister, she had her arm resting on the arm on the chair, gazing as well into the distance. Almost in a discreet fashion, Alex had her foot slid underneath the chair in front of her, tapping it with such a velocity it made Paxton wonder why the tram hadn’t derailed yet. In the reflection, in the window in front her, she vaguely saw her brother staring over at her. Alex glared back, she twisted her upper body fully towards the window with a loud grunt, uttering a few unpleasant words.

Paxton slouched back into his seat, his body jittered from a heavy heave of air. He took out his tablet and stylus again, and wrote with a shaky, slippery hand.

_I’m sorry._

_**************************************************************************************************************************************************_

Like tap shoes, Alex’s flats made loud clicks on the floor while Paxton’s boots only made small beats, little sounds that trailed behind him. The corridor they walked along was a steely grey, glowing with a dark blue that was strips on lights, each placed beside the walls of the corridor. Cold blue doors lined up along the walls, each stamped with a small number, name of each colonist’s last name, and small slot for mail.

 ‘ _Mail,_ Paxton thought, shaking his head. _who uses that anymore?’_

 Reaching towards the end of the hallway, the Harbors walked towards another door, however this door was only engraved with, in bold letters, ALLIANCE PERSONALE. Pressing her fingers on a small keypad, the door clicked open, allowing them to enter. Still sluggishly walking, Paxton and Alex dragged themselves into the apartment.

“Have fun explaining to the Secretary-General why you don’t have 300 hundred” Alex’s cut herself mid-sentence when her body jolted and her eyes were met with a large, empty steely grey room. It was devoid of anything, all there was just white containers sealed tight and large windows ingrained into the wall, shining the room with Proserpina’s light. She whipped her head back and forth and turned back to Paxton. “Where did everything go?”

“I, um, I wouldn’t know.” Paxton shrugged his shoulders, cautiously curling his mouth into a grin. “Scavenger hunt?”

“Why do I even ask?”

With downcast eyes, Paxton looked towards the floor and walked with his feet glued to the ground. His hands still knitted around the strap of his bag, he proceeded to walk with Alex towards an open door at the end of, another, hallway. Until the two heard a loud, almost mocking laugh come from behind a door. There was a sound of cork hitting a wall, liquid swirling around into a glass, and a breath of relief escaping from someone’s mouth.

“I swear, I tell you, things couldn’t be better. Great colony, great wine—satisfaction.” Said a woman with a loud voice, her voice almost giddy with excitement. Alex kicked off her shoes, then herself and Paxton walked towards the door to see their mother sitting in a chair. Her legs were kicked upon a desk, where there was a terminal with a turian on it. “Do turians ever have those moments where they just kick back and celebrate?”

"Do humans ever have those moments where they do their work _then_ decide to not kick back and celebrate prematurely?” The turian on the terminal replied, he chuckled with smug satisfaction. She took a sip of her drink and then hung the glass between her fingers. “Is that a good answer, Melanie? Does it fill your ego like the wine in your glass?”

Melanie glared at him, shook her head, and curled her mouth into a small grin. Setting the glass on the desk, she held her fingers together and laid her hands on her white shirt. She tilted her head and let a laugh escape from her mouth, she stared at the glowing screen in front of her, using her glare to search beyond the turian’s eyes.

“You know what? It _really_ does.” The 52-year-old brushed her light brown hair with slight gray streaks as she hands under her chin. “Proserpina is being called one of the Alliance’s greatest colonization efforts, they say that it could become Earth 2.0—maybe even bigger. Trust me when I say this, Valerius: It _will_.”

“Don’t be too confident or else someone is going to shoot you down, Melanie.”

“That’s why you always bring spare ammunition.” Melanie chuckled. She tilted her head behind her and saw two sets of eyes staring back at her. “Speaking of which, I’m going to have to leave right now, I need to find two bullets for my gun.”

Disconnecting from the call, the 5’8 woman swirled her pointer finger in the air and then ticked it down to the desk a few times, prompting Paxton and Alex to come from the door and stand in front of her. Melanie had a scar on the side of her face, a red slice on her face that was fading away into her fair skin. The politician wore a navy blue collarless jacket and matching pants, a pearl necklace, and had light brown hair that touched her shoulders. She looked up at them with her frozen blue eyes with her hand resting on her face.

“Are you done with your power trip?” Alex blurted out, crossing her arms over chest.

“Hello to you, too, Alexandria.” Melanie said without conviction. “Having a good day?”

“Skip the pleasantries—where is everything?”

“Packed away like your respect. _You_ can exit out the door you came from, you’ll find out sooner than later.” Melanie brushed her hand toward the door and turned back on the terminal on her desk, focusing on the orange glowing screen in front of her—oblivious to the two in front of her.

Alex’s, now red, face fell with a sneer. Her lips retreated with a purse behind her mouth as she briskly shuffled out the room. In the distance, Paxton saw her stumble when she picked up her flats from the ground. Jolting his body was a slam from a door. Paxton looked towards his boots again and let out a small sigh, he followed in his sister’s steps and started to drag himself out the office.

“‘You’ is a singular word which was directed at a singular person. Take a seat.” Melanie said without breaking her gaze from the terminal in front of her. Paxton jolted, turned his back towards her, sat in the chair, and let his bag lay across his lap.

Paxton looked around the room; it was devoid of anything, containers like the ones in the entrance sat in separate corners, although in the corner of the room was a small bed with a copy of Melanie’s suit spread across the sheets. To Paxton, the room felt like a prison cell because of it’s cold, steely grey boxy design, and to help with the tightness of the room was light barely shining through closed blinds.

Melanie typed away at the screen in front of her face, words flinging to the screen with every stroke of her fingers across the holographic keyboard. A wonderment met with Paxton’s mind, he was surprised that her hands didn’t detach from her wrists and run away from the speed she was going. Her eyes never left the screen, Melanie’s face was fixed in a frozen state of a stern gaze conflicting with a downturned mouth.

“I’m sorry for interrupting and prying into your conversation with Mr. Ataraxia, ma’am.” Paxton broke the silence, causing Melanie to shift herself towards Paxton. A small sliver of sweat pooled down from his forehead. He looked at her straight in the eyes, her stare fixed upon him; he felt as if she was beyond Paxton, searching into his soul and reading beyond his outward appearance. “It won’t happen again, you could’ve been discussing sensitive information with him and I shouldn’t have intruded upon—“

“I appreciate that, Paxton. It’s not often I hear a genuine apology from people.” Melanie’s lips turned upwards with a small smile. “Mr. Ataraxia and I were having a causal discussion, it’s not anything to be worried about. We were just talking about what’s going on with our lives.”

“How is, um, how is your day, ma’am?” Paxton stumbled with his words, his hands twisting around the zipper of his bag. “Are you doing okay?”

“Okay?” Melanie said with a now chirpy voice. She turned off her terminal, she put her hands under chin and rested her elbows on the desk. A smile strung along her face, it was as if she took great pleasure in what she was about to say. “I feel great, Paxton! Proserpina is doing better than the Alliance ever thought possible, it has beaten all of our projections! Our economy is shot up by an unexpected and extra 3.5% last year because of Proserpina!” She laughed and turned it down into a sigh. “Enough about me. Paxton, how are you?”

“That’s beside the point,” Said Paxton, shuffling in the chair. “would you like me to talk to Alex for you?”

“What? No. Your sister is being, well, your sister. I don’t know what’s bothering her. It’s a shame, a beautiful young woman is such a hothead.” Melanie shook her head and collected herself with a sigh. Looking back at Paxton, her mouth formed with a slight grin. “I was going to tell you both this before Alex stormed off, but the reason everything is packed up is because we’re leaving the day after tomorrow and heading back home.”

“Oh.” Paxton had somber ringing through his quiet voice.

“Yes, yes, I know. I wish I could stay here too, but we have to go back home or else it wouldn’t be a home anymore, yes?” Paxton gave her a nod. “Good. Tomorrow is a busy for us. The Alliance sent me out here to do a speech to commemorate the one year anniversary of Proserpina. Little security this time, everything seems to be going fine. Surprising, considering we’re at the edge of the Terminus.” She took a sip of her wine. “It will be just like all the rest of them, Paxton. I stand behind a lectern and give flattery to the people beside me. Business as usual.”

“Your speech will be good as usual, ma’am.”

“Don’t kid with me, Paxton.” She laughed, resting her hands on her lap. Turning her head to the side, her eyebrows became uneven and she scoffed. “Look at you, you’re evading my questions like a politician, I’m supposed to be doing that. Now this time you answer, how are _you_?”

“Fine.” Paxton blurted. His eyes looked at everything in the room, all except for her eyes.

“Just doing fine?” She calmed her voice and looked straight at Paxton, staring into her son’s mismatched eyes. “You can talk to me about anything, Paxton. I’m always going to be here waiting for you. What’s on your mind?”

Darting his eyes towards the glass of wine on her desk, he saw a slight crack form at the tip of the glass, a small crack that could spread. His hands slipped back into his sleeves, his fingers gnawed at the fabric and wrestled with it, twisting it around his hands. Washing over Paxton, a sharp twang of guilt pierced his stomach and made it collapse. Paxton’s face darted upwards at her, his hands still making knots with itself.

With a shaky voice Paxton proclaimed, “When _I_ was out today, _I_ caused and is responsible for the shattering of a—“

On Melanie’s desk, her terminal ringed. Its orange screen flashed on with a new caller. She quickly put the glass of wine and the bottle under her desk and rolled her hair behind her ears.

“That sounds great, Paxton. We had a good talk but now I’ve got to do a conference call with the other Secretary-Generals.” Melanie hastily moved around the room, she grabbed a couple of tablets and folders and laid them across her desk. She shook her head and a great sigh of exasperation came out from her mouth.

She looked down at Paxton, who was still patiently sitting in his chair, his face met with disappointment and somberness. His head pointed downwards but his eyes still met with hers. Melanie nudged her head towards the door as she proceeded to answer the call and pick up the files on her desk and discus their importance.

Paxton slouched upwards from the chair, he put his hands into his pockets and glued his eyes towards the floor. He paced out the door and walked with slow steps down the hall, his body jumped when he heard a loud shut from Melanie’s door. Holding the bag close to his chest, Paxton’s face grew back into its default gaze; unamused eyes and with a held back frown.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

The moon hanged over the night sky, it’s glow flooded through the blinds of the room. The shadows folded into neat lines that found their place along the floor, leaving the room in a mismatched glow of moonlight which left the room caught in a fight between darkness and lightness. Across Paxton’s face, the folding of the moonlight from behind the blinds lit his face in an almost yin-yang fashion of dark and light.

The desk was firmly planted into the floor, it sat against the window of the room, and beside a twin-sized bed. Paxton sat at the desk, where his bag was laid across the desk’s surface and so was his tablet and pen. He had his arms resting on the desk and his arm glowed with his Omni-Tool. Paxton was pressing into it and was meddling with its functions. The orange light from his arm illuminated the room and splashed along Paxton’s eyes.

_HISS!_

A small sting of electricity zapped at the tip of Paxton’s fingers. He winced and shook the his slightly warmed hands, shaking the Omni-Tool’s shock off him. Paxton turned his Omni-Tool off and leaned back into his chair with a heavy sigh, he ticked his non-shocked hand fingers along the desk to the rhythm of his shaking head.

“I’m never going to get this down.” Muttered Paxton with clear disdain in his voice. Sliding into his hands was his tablet and stylus, his eyebrows dropped once more as he tapped away at the screen. “Here we go again.”

Opening the ‘Mail’ section of his tablet. He began to scroll through his emails and a found a starred message under the section titled: DO NOT LOOSE THESE MESSAGES. After whispering thanks towards his past self, Paxton opened a message from a person named Professor Veritas Mendacium.

_Welcome to the Second Semester at Asha Institute! If you’re reading this you’re either going to attend my classes or I’ve sent the wrong message to the wrong section of students—again. Though if you ARE in my Psychology and in my Tech Lab classes, I would like to introduce myself, I’m—_

Scrolling past the introduction for the umpteenth time, the screen now showed a data package with the title: OMNI-TOOL OVERCLOCKING SYLLABUS. When the file was opened and download again, much to Paxton’s displeasure. The file, which included a program to install the software needed for overclocking and a simple PDF file, listed instructions how to overclock. In the Professor’s words, _maximize the full capability of the unimaginably precious and powerful device that displays over all of our arms!_

After countless and tiring readings, and then re-readings, of the instructions, Paxton sat upward in his chair again. Tossing the stylus and tablet onto the desk, opening the Omni-Tool, and then gluing his eyes and plastering his hand to the holographic tool’s screen.

His fingers move with eloquence, like Melanie’s, they were running and ceased to stop. Following with his fingers, Paxton’s eyes darted from one area of his Omni-Tool to another as he kept twisting down buttons and entering lines of code that spread across the screen. Entering another line of code on the Omni-Tool, it then started to flash red with the warning: OVERHEATING IMINENT, REBOOT STARTED. Pushing a great sigh from his lungs and out from his mouth, Paxton tried to tinker with his Omni-Tool some more, pushing and pressing buttons to cool it down.

His fingers moved with eloquence, like Melanie’s, they were running and ceased to stop. Following with his fingers, Paxton’s eyes darted from one area of his Omni-Tool to another as he kept pressing down buttons and entering a random allotment of letters and numbers that appeared on the screen. With a flickering red light on the screen, a beeping noise, and an automated voice seemingly begging Paxton to stop trying to fix the Omni-Tool—he still did it anyways.

Paxton’s hand started to increase in temperature as the Omni-Tool started to become overwhelmed with the forced overclocking. As sweat fell off Paxton’s face and drip onto the desk, his fingers only increased in speed. The warming of his hand started to raise up his wrists, touched his elbows, and rose above Paxton’s arm which a sent a fiery flash. Flinching back, Paxton’s fingers fell out of order and started to slide and be misplaced across the screen where—

_CRACK!_

A blue, almost like a lightning bolt, spark erupted from the Omni-Tool, flinging Paxton and his possessions far from the desk. He slammed against the floor, twisting on the ground until he slammed against a wall. His breathes heavy, vision blurred, and a burnt smell spread across the room, it’s scent was like plastic on fire. Pulling his upper body up, he had his hands firmly planted into the floor and parts of his hair swung over his face. A blip in his foggy vision showed the red from his Omni-Tool draining down into a cool orange. Shaking his head, his vision came back to him and it allowed Paxton to see the toppled chair in front of him.

After releasing a few coughs from his chest, Paxton crawled up against wall, burying his hands into face. He let his breathes calm down, letting his lungs and heart cool after continuous beating and breathing. Dragging his hands away from his face, Paxton stood up, almost stumbling as he did. He threw his bag next to his black boots by the bed, put the chair back towards the desk, and opened the window and let the burning smell exit out into the sky. Sliding out from the door of his room, Paxton walked with silent steps as he found his way into the bathroom. Standing over the sink, a mirror hung on the wall, showing Paxton’s reflection.

Keeping his head down to the sink, ignoring his reflection, Paxton splashed cold water over his face. It shivered and jolted his body, awakening him once more to the world around him. The water drained down from his eyes, leaving them red, puffy, and tired. His hands were planted on either side of the sink, he let the water drip from his face on its own accord. His head tilted upwards, he looked at the groggily, exhausted mess that came over his face. From under his eyes were several darkened colors, slowly but surely taking precedence around his eyes.

Another groan escaped from his mouth. Paxton slung his hands into his pockets and paced out from the bathroom door, taking subtle footsteps down the hallway. When he entered his room, he sat on the edge of his bed. Putting his hands back into his face, the moonlight still shined over him, keeping him as the brightened object inside the dim room.

As the wind blew out from the wind, it spread through the waves of his hair, tussling with the night’s breeze. Leaning back on his bed, Paxton closed his eyes and let the wind take his breath, letting himself flow with the wind. He felt like his body was being carried in the wind, like an angel descent from a heaven, flying in the sky with bliss. Finally, to Paxton, the world remained at a calm pace. No shattered mugs, no belligerent sisters, no politically obsessed mother, and no more electric shocks springing from Omni-Tools. Only the comfort of a soft bed—

Glowing in the dark room, the screen of Paxton’s tablet flared with another notification. Paxton dragged himself out of the bed as the screen only increased with the outpour of notifications. Kneeling, Paxton looked at the messages, again from the one self-tilted SF. Scrolling through the messages they sent, Paxton’s face distorted into a grimace as more kept being sent to him. Every second, a message from SF popped onto the screen, only increasing with aggression.

_Answer._

_Answer the fucking messages._

_Not answering me is hilarious, truthfully._

_You don’t have all day._

_You won’t have all day._

_Here’s some free advice, take your time when programing your Omni-Tool for your class. Don’t want another shock to electrocute you._

_You aren’t alone. I know who you are, PAXTON HARBOR._

Throwing the tablet across the room, Paxton jumped back towards the edge of the bed. He held tightly on the sheets, making them collapse over his shaking body. Holding the sheets close to him, his chest pounded with an ever-increasing heartbeat. The buzzing of the notifications from the tablet ceased but the fear inside of Paxton’s body exploded into his dilated eyes. Crippled with distress, his body froze, his eyes were kept in a terrified frenzy, staring at the tablet across the room

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Rocking slowly back and forth in the plastic chair, Paxton kept tapping his foot against the pavement and continually twisting then untwisting his fingers together. The puffiness of his now red, dry eyes was being bombarded with the shining rays of the sun above. The sun had no clouds to block its rays, so it honed down on the people below.

The Market Square bloomed with people buzzing around. They were either laughing, finding a place in the small sea of chairs, or discussing what they thought of the Secretary-General and debating her policies. No matter what, Proserpina’s colonists took their seats in front of the platform. Across the Market Square, reporters talked to their cameras or were spending their time interviewing the colonists.

Next to Paxton sat Alex, she had sunglasses on and was on her tablet. Even with the sunglasses on, he still felt that she was glaring at him under the lens. She ignored the shuffling of people and remained untouched by the environment around her, keeping her eyes stuck on the tablet in her lap.

Through the commotion of the Market Square, Paxton’s body still shook from the night before. His heart still thumped with beats that fired off in rapid succession, only a bit slower than the night before. His stomach twisted and churned, to Paxton, it felt as if people were tug of war with his small intestine.

When he opened his bag, and took out and turned on his tablet, it was still on the messages from SF. There were no responses, no more messages, and no attempt at communication to Paxton. His fingers shook when he slid up and re-read the messages again. Wincing when he read his name once more, reading over what he did with his Omni-Tool. He took out his stylus and began to frantically write in the journal on his tablet

_July 10, 2180_

_I would say this is joke but I know my friends wouldn’t be this cruel towards me, not even Alex would be this sadistic. Someone named SF, seems to be stalking me. They know about my Omni-Tool mishap last night, they know my name and probably my family—there’s not many Harbors in this galaxy. That’s beside the point, I didn’t even sleep last night or eat this morning, my stomach hurts from being too terrified throughout the night._

_What if SF hurts me? What if they mug me or steal something from me? ~~What if SF stalks me?~~ SF IS ALREADY STALKING ME. I’m scared, truly. Six days into being 21 and this happens to me, this year is going to be terrible. I can only hope the speech goes well today._

_Hope is the key word._

From the chair behind the two Harbors, a young man, around their age, slumped his arms on their chairs. Paxton flinched back while Alex remained undisturbed, her gaze still fixated onto her tablet. He looked at her and mumbled under his breath, it was if he was practicing lines for a show. He turned his face to her with a smile half-cracked.

“Hey, you in the red,” He shifted his attention to Alex, leaning against her chair and scanning her body with his eyes. “they say there’s a lot of fish in the sea. Care if I reel you in?”

“Sorry,” Responded Alex, her voice flat and emotionless. She kept her body forwards and didn’t turn in his direction. “I don’t attach myself to cheap bait.” A gasp came from the man as he stared at her with his jaw dropped and eyebrows curtailed into a frenzy of confusion. “This sea has been frozen over. Columbus, go find yourself another sea to fish in.”

The man stood up, his mouth pursed, he stomped off from the chairs and kicked his feet into the ground. That was until a group a similar young woman walked by, for he then started to chat them up. Alex chuckled at the group of young woman who collectively threw their drinks at him. She then turned off her tablet and handed it to Paxton, where he stored it inside his bag.

“Pathetic, really.” Alex folded her hands over her lap. “Though I bet you that he’s going to try and try again until he finds a brain-dead girl who doesn’t know the difference between attractiveness and awfulness.” She said to no one in particular, keeping her gaze fixated on the chairs in front of her. “Persistence is key some say, but no lock will open with a rusty key.”

In the corner of her eye, she saw a jittering brother who looked increasingly fearful with every passing second, it was as if he was on a scaled down version of a hallucinogen with the paranoia still in play. His consistent foot tapping, the fiddle with his fingers, and the constant glances over his shoulders made her release an exasperated groan from her mouth.

“Calm it down there, Psych. Do I need to put you in a straightjacket?” Alex placed her face next to Paxton’s and hissed under her breath, sending a flinch to Paxton, jolting his lithe body. “You _will_ not act like this today when she’s about to give her speech! I’m no fan of this inescapable hellhole but keep your smile widened with your pearly whites and clap your hands. I won’t let _you_ make us seem like a stereotypical crazy political family.”

The two stood up as the group of Proserpina’s politicians, heads of each of the colonies’ departments, and Melanie started to walk up to the platform. When they assembled in a line on the stage, they waved out towards the crowd of adulating colonists and posed together for pictures and videos for the news media.

Paxton’s smile didn’t touch his eyes, his teeth shook with heavy presses to keep his mouth pointed upwards. Every clap he did was a like a drumstick hitting against a drum with a gaping hole in it; empty and desperate. On the outside, any hint of panic and fear was dissolved, now turned into an over joyful young man, eager to hear his mother’s speech.

They saw Melanie spot them in the crowd, she gave a slight wave with her hand towards them and her children returned it with a small wave. When she turned her wave to the entire, large and densely packed crowd of people. She wore her blue suit and pearl necklace again. On her jacket was a small pin of Earth, a circle of blue oceans and green continents solidified on a metal pin.

Melanie stood beside the lectern as a man in a white and blue suit stood in front of the microphone, he used his hands to bring down the applause of the crowd and seat the colonists. As the two Harbors sat in their chairs, Alex hissed again in Paxton’s ear.

“Good, now continue to smile until it hurts.” She sliced through her teeth, through the crack of a smile. With a smiley face, Paxton nodded.

When the man began talking, he introduced himself as the Director of Proserpina, responsible for the inner and outer workings of the colony. He praised the colony and the underlings in the chairs below him, and celebrated his administration’s direction of the colony. After, to Paxton, unsettling amount of time, congratulating his staff and briefly the actual colonists, he introduced Melanie.

“…with great pleasure,” He said, tilting his head towards Melanie. “I introduce the Secretary-General of the Systems Alliance Melanie Harbor. Madam Secretary-General, you have the audience.” He shifted himself away from the lectern and allowed Melanie to stand behind it. He took his seat on a chair on the stage.

Behind the lectern, Melanie waited for the crowd to end their applause. She brought down her hands several times to cool down the jubilance of the eager colonists. She ended up giving affirmative nods, repeatedly telling them thank you, and giving a smile. After, to Paxton, what seemed to be an awkward minute of her standing, they crowd died down and let her speak.

“Now if people on the Citadel were only that cheery, I would have less gray in my hair.” Laughed Melanie, as did with crowd. “However, my main goal here today isn’t self-gratification it’s about the success of Proserpina, one year in the making. With the colonists like you, working day and night in the fields, in your shops, and developing an entirely new culture by this luscious and mesmerizing world—humanity enjoys a fresh, beautiful beginning our final frontier.”

Adoration from the crowd came with the sound of hitting each palm against another. Over the crowd’s applause, Paxton looked around the Market Square. Beyond the stage and through the sea of chairs, he saw a skyline of self-built small businesses, the swirling tramways that led to the acrologies, and the forest-like environment that was Proserpina. Peaceful and quaint this colony was.

_BOOM!_

Everyone snapped their heads to an explosion from the businesses. A powerful noise that was covered up by ash rising in the sky and dust swarming around the streets. The boom ringed in everyone’s ears as they all collectively winced and looked around towards each other, all looking at everyone’s feared filled face. Some yelped and jumped from their seats.

“What the actual fuck…” Alex whispered under her breath. She took off her sunglasses and looked around, her face met with Paxton’s, who also was in disbelief and shock.

“Nobody, panic. There, there must’ve an accident, there’s nothing to worry about.” Melanie tried to soothe the increasingly panicky crowd. She looked around the stage, all of Proserpina’s officials faces became pale. “Remain calm, fear only causes frenzy.”

With everyone twisting and turning their heads, no one besides Paxton looked directly at the stage. He saw a wavering red dot swirl on the stage floor, finding its way around the stage. As if it was playing a game, the dot swirled around Melanie multiple times. Paxton almost lunged out of his seat when he whipped his head around, the red dot was a beam, a beam connected to a building behind them. It came from a roof, and Paxton could vaguely see someone kneeling and holding down a rifle.

_BANG!_

A loud screech came out of both Melanie and Paxton’s mouth as she was flung to the floor. She rolled on the stage and her body knocked into chairs before slamming into the stage’s wall. Red liquid soaked her blue jacket, it came out from her side and pooled around her.

The people from the chairs toppled over each other, each one of them screaming and shouting, pushing everyone out of the way. They were like animals, fighting and brawling for a way out of the chairs, each taking precedence over the other while wanting a way to flee this battle. Everyone held their hands over their heads, bracing themselves from—

_BANG!_

Alex yanked Paxton’s wrist to the ground, and hid under the chairs. Their heartbeats exploding with heavy, fast thuds. Tears streamed down his face when they hit the ground, his breath falling in and out of his chest, pulling in then yanking out his lungs.

“LISTEN!” Alex yelled, pulling Paxton by the strap close to her. She put her mouth to his ear and spoke with a harsh, unforgiving tone. “We either die here or--“

_BANG!_

“A-A-ALEX!” Paxton whimpered, now tears freely flowing from his eyes.

“Look, we go and grab her and we get the fuck out of here!” Alex grabbed Paxton’s collar and nodded her head with him. She yanked him and herself up and they started to run through the chairs together hand in hand, racing against another bullet.

The two hid behind more chairs, stopping to catch their breath and look at their surroundings. Screams still soared into the air, the people were scattering about and trying to run away from the violent scene. The two Harbors were nearing the stage and they saw it was empty, all besides Melanie and her blood.

_BANG!_

The indentation of a round landed near their feet, making the siblings fly from behind the chairs. They both shrieked as they fell onto the ground, not before they pulled themselves upward. The two pumped their legs across the ground, each pump of their legs was like a leap that made them fly across the ground. Up the stage, Paxton and Alex grabbed Melanie by her jacket and--

_BANG!_

A round slammed next to Paxton’s head, barely missing him by centimeters. He screamed again and ducked as himself and his sister pulled Melanie off the stage and placed themselves behind the stage’s wall, away from the shooter. Paxton and Alex put Melanie on her back, she winced when she touched the ground and pressed her hand into crimson wound on her side. Melanie’s red blood splattered against her white shirt and blue jacket, with her pants getting the same treatment. She groaned and kept her eyes shut. Her face came down with sweat, it trickled down her face.

“What...what the hell just happened?” Melanie wheezed out, gasping for breath between each word. With a blurred vison, she tried to see around the destructive and deadly environment. She felt a squeeze on her hand coming from the one with the purple bandanna. She pulled him closer and leaned into his ear, whispering. “You. Medi-Gel. Now.”

With fast bobs of his head, Paxton nodded and opened his Omni-Tool. Pulling up her jacket and shirt, he felt a lightness in his stomach when he saw the gunshot wound on her side, blooding coming out from a small, yet painful, graze. Hovering his Omni-Tool over her, it dispensed a transparent ointment which Paxton, with a head turned, rubbed over her wound.

The Medi-Gel sealed tight her wound, the gel holding tight over her skin and providing Melanie a, at that moment, euphoric high that ceased all her pain. She slumped forwards and pulled her clothes back down, giving a nod to Paxton in process.

“Some fuckface decided to play with his gun and shot at you.” Alex growled, her fury tightened into her fist. “We’re getting the hell out of here.”

“Whoever it was, they shot an Alliance and Citadel Official and killed many, they will never see the light of day again.” Melanie stood up and scanned her eyes around the ugly sight of Proserpina. She pulled a pistol that was tucked away in her pants. With the gesture of her hand, she brought her children to their feet. “We run, faster than what than what you’ve ever done and faster than what you will ever do in the future. I stay in front and you both follow my lead. We head to the tram station and find help at the spaceport. No questions, comments, concerns—you do _exactly_ as I say.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Paxton and Alex frantically said together. On their faces was a mix of sweat, exasperation, and fear. Their eyes both were dilated, they looked like a deer were forever trapped in the headlights.

Taking lead, Melanie ran with her adult children, and raced away from the stage. They heard shots still being fired from the unknown sniper, and with those shots, screams were put a halt as people’s lives splattered onto the ground.

A chorus of screams, sirens, and shots rang in the background, engulfing Proserpina with an awful amount of air pollution. Ash from the exploded building flowed through the sky, finding its way into the clouds. The once pristine, blue, sunny sky was turning into a black, smoggy mess of death.         

_BOOM!_

Another building was blown to shreds, every piece of the building was scattered across the ground. The building was no longer its namesake, it was just a pile of rubble and debris. When people tried running down the street, opposite of the bombed pile of ash, a gun released rounds into them, spurting their blood everywhere.

Some people grabbed their guns, or took their belongings, or took their family and hobbled into a closed off building, and others hid away inside a closet to pray. All they knew was their world was shattering, and they could do nothing about it.

The Harbors hung their face in disbelief as shots rang out from multiple distances, gunfire surrounding the entirety of Proserpina. Over their head they saw a ship flying into the sky, it was a merchant ship yet it wasn’t deterring its course and flying out away from Proserpina, it was accelerating it. Hiding in a forested area, the one where Paxton was the day prior, behind shrubberies, hidden away in a sea of green. They saw the ship land in the center of the Market Square, it touched down and the pack panel of the ship opened.

Out came heavily armed, purple and black armored soldiers who’s faces was hidden behind a helmet. They shot at any living person who was squirming for life in the chairs, popping a round into their head.  From their armor, they didn’t appear to be human, if anything, they weren’t lacking in diversity—besides the lack of any humans.

Melanie gasped, her skin turned pale when she looked at the assortment of the soldiers. She stared at their every move, from the way they held their guns, walked, communicated, and the scheme of dark colors on their armor.

Her face shot back with fire as she saw a much taller turian run up to the group, carrying a sniper rifle in his hand. He pointed in multiple directions, each time two soldiers ran to where he pointed. What was left was him, another turian, and a shorter, to Melanie’s educated guess, asari. Pointing his head towards the area where the Harbors were located, they kept tightened the grip around their guns and started running towards the forested area.

Yanking Paxton and Alex up, the Harbors darted from their hiding place and flew through the tree branches, hopped over logs, crunched twigs under their shoes, and frantically followed a non-linear path. Their hearts pumped as fast as their legs and frantic thoughts plowed into their minds.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Gunshots roared out from the barrels of the guns of the three who were chasing after the Harbors. The rounds spliced through leaves, hit against the ground, and fired through the trees. In the distance they saw a flashing, flaring red lights and the shouts of sirens from the tram station. Closer the tram station appeared to their eyes as they ran towards the tram station and the sound of those who chased them disappeared.

The Harbors hobbled out to the desolate street. They caught their breath, finding a way to fill their depleted lungs without the smog and ash from the explosions. Looking around, the street was raining down with debris from the blasted building and was devoid of any life. As they walked, the glass from windows cracked under their feet, pieces of the building flew into their hair, and only gunshots from a distance spilled into the air.

Paxton’s eyes were wild, his doe-eyes almost popped from out his head and his heart wanted to fall out from his chest. His teeth chattered, making fast, sharp jabs against each other. His chest fell backwards and then inwards, with such a fast repetition that his breathes became mere wheezes for air. Smothered across his face was black ash, only his tears cleaned his face.

Alex snatched Paxton’s wrist and fast-walked forwards down the street, following Melanie’s lead. Alex was also bathed in dirt and dust; her long hair was drained with sweat and ash, and it was spread across her face. Her face was fixed in a permeant sneer, hisses came out from the corner of her clenched mouth.

“A-Are we gonna DIE?” Paxton stammered, his voice full of anxiety and fear. His head still whipped around the street, looking for anything and anyone who could destroy them.

“P-Please, please, please tell me won’t, ma’am.”

“If we were going to die,” Melanie said calmly, she didn’t raise or lower her voice, hers was still leveled out. It was as if she didn’t get shot. Her fingers were still knitted around her pistol, she didn’t look behind at Paxton and focused her attention on the tram station, which still a distance down the street. “we wouldn’t be able to discuss the fact that we’re still alive.”

From the corner of his eye, in the distance he saw people holding their ground against the purple and black armored soldiers. They fired at them with their guns, yet it was only futile. The colonists were shot in their knees and then collapsed to the ground. The soldiers came out to them, but didn’t fire their guns. They dragged the screaming colonists by their collars, covered over their mouths, cuffed their wrists, and hauled them off to a pile of others who met the same unfortunate fate.

“T-THEY’RE TAKING THEM!” Paxton gasped. “THEY’RE SLAVERS!” He pulled on Alex’s arm and looked at her in her rough face. “AND WE WILL--“

 “IF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP, PAX, MAYBE THEY WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO FIND US!” Shouted Alex, causing Paxton to flinch away from her.

“B-BUT THEY’RE GONNA--“

“WHAT? BE PARANOID AND CRAZY LIKE YOU?”

Whipping back, Melanie pressed her faces into theirs and pulled back a deep frown across her face.

“If you both don’t stay quiet we will _ALL_ die,” Melanie hissed at them. She folded Alex’s and Paxton’s hands together, keeping the two’s fingers intertwined. “Paxton, keep your fear to yourself. Alex, if someone has a problem, you help fix it.” She shook her head and walked forwards. “If you both don’t keep quiet, I will be the one who shoots you dead.”

Stomping forwards, the Harbors kept themselves pacing down the street. Paxton turned his head and saw the bombed building and immediately knew of what it was—the café. He kept the tears in his eyes glued to his eyelids, his trembling lip was bitten with force, and every gasp became a cold shudder down his spine.

Reaching the end of the street, the tram station’s steps were not too far from where the Harbors were. Together, they walked in unison to the tram station and— 

_BOOM!_

The Harbors jumped back as they saw the tram station explode into the sky, firing off pieces of the once beautiful sight into a mix of blackness, fire, and death. The station burned and collapsed upon itself with fallen pieces of its own architecture falling on top of each other. Smoke rose from the burning station, dimming the sky above them, darkening the world.

Ash and debris became an avalanche, it poured out from the station and was becoming a pressing wall the was flowing the air at a face pace, taking everything its path and consuming Proserpina. Melanie grabbed them and they ran into an alleyway, across the street of the forgotten café. Huddled together, they watched as the ash fly past the entrance of the alleyway. Some flowed into the alley, but nothing much to alarm the Harbors. The debris sounded like a stampede of people, yet it was only the ashes of them that was stuck within the wind.

After a minute of it flowing, they heard footsteps slamming against the ground and rushing towards the alley. Melanie cocked her pistol and yanked her children behind her, having them be shrouded in her shadow. Her foot grinded into the ground, her face fixed into an emotionless stare, and her pistol was locked in her hand. Along her arm, her Omni-Tool glowed with its orange light, and waved around them was a blue, electrical, bubble-like shield that fizzed when it touched the ground.

Paxton watched as a different set of slavers stepped foot in the alley. They didn’t fire on sight, they kept their guns pointed forwards at her, and she returned the favor. No one moved, their breaths were only thing Paxton could hear, and they kept staring in the other’s face. Until they shot a round at her, yet it deflected off the blue shield, the round dissolving in it. More shots fired, yet she still stood with her arm extended and her body still. Melanie’s eyes fixed onto the slavers, never escaping out of her sight.

Looking up, Paxton saw the shield start to flicker and dissolve, it hissed and sparked. Paxton grew frantic as he looked around, it was failing. These sudden seconds slowed down to him, everything moved slowly as his Omni-Tool opened on his arm. Melanie extended the arm with Omni-Tool towards them, she pressed into it and let a blue charge build within it. Paxton pressed his nervous fingers into his tool, tapping anything and everything until a blue spark started to emit from his Omni-Tool as well.

They both kept their hand in the tool, building up the sparks. Paxton raced towards her, Melanie lashed her head back to him with shock. Unfocused, their finger slid off their Omni-Tools and—

_CRACK! HISS!_

An electrical wave raced down the alley, making the sky glow with flashing, sparking blue lights from above. The slavers were eletricuted with the current, it damaged their armor and found its way under their skin. They shrieked and plummeted to the ground, blood pooling out from their helmets. The Harbors were slammed against the alley’s back wall, their bodies flown like ragdolls that smacked against cement walls. They laid on the ground unmoving, their eyelids folded over their eyes and hands clutched against the ground. Cuts formed along their bodies and drops of red blood painted against the ground like an abstract painting.

Paxton cracked opened his blurred vision, again, and saw Alex and Melanie lying beside him. They were both unawake and unmoving, though their chests moved with breath. Paxton felt a heaviness over him, his exhaustion pulled him down and tied him to the ground. There was a ringing in his ears, it was like windchimes without the beauty of their sound flowing in the air. He heard echoes from a distance, the sound of slow footsteps coming close to them.

He tried push himself up as the sound of the steps filled his mind, his arms shook when he pulled himself up. They wobbled, shaking every second he tried to remain upwards. Looking at the pistol besides Melanie, tried to reach out and take it. When he pressed a knee forwards, it ached and sent pain up his leg and through his body. Wincing, his arm burnt with the pain.

A foot slammed Paxton’s back into the ground, pressing down into him and leaving him unable to move. Trying to move was useless, between his own exhaustion and the heavy weight of whomever was on him, Paxton couldn’t move even if he wanted to. The shadow from the turian slaver was darkened like a silhouette, he stood far above Paxton, a couple inches over seven feet. A sniper rifle was holstered on his back—he was the leader and first shooter. Paxton whimpered when his eyes met with the helmet of the slaver, he curled his hands together and cried to himself. His breathe was frantic again and the urge to escape boiled inside his body. The slaver’s foot was taken off Paxton’s back, then he crouched down to Paxton and stared at him through his helmet.

Clicking his helmet off, he threw it to the side and pressed his face down to Paxton. It was blank, devoid of any emotion as he stared into the increasingly panicked human’s face. His face was darkened and only the glow of his purple eyes glistening, along with a scar that stretched down the side of the turian’s face.

The slaver took out a long, serrated knife and placed it into Paxton’s boot. He then took Melanie’s pistol and held in his hand, twisting it slowly and staring at every detail of it, making sure it was exact. To himself, he chuckled under his breath as he pointed the pistol to the ground. The slaver shook his head and gave a sigh, all without taking his eyes away from Paxton.

“I say that’s a good trade.” The slaver said, his voice gruff yet he sounded smooth, he was clear with his words and his voice rang with confidence. He patted Paxton’s shoulder, jolting the human’s frail body. “Now, I wish that we could talk all day and catch up, kid, but I’ve got places to be. Don’t take this as me letting you live, we’ll meet again soon.”

The slaver stood back up and he started to slowly pace down the alley, where the asari and the other turian stood waiting. He turned half his body towards the beat-down human. Staring into him, as he was looking for something that was beyond Paxton’s eyes.

“I will say this:” His voice made Paxton quiver and sent a cold flash across his body, making Paxton’s heart pump as he looked at the slaver in the distance. “It’s been nice meeting you again, _Paxton Harbor_.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very excited to post my first story online! It's entrhalling and exciting to see what people will say about this! Please, comment what you think, I will respond to them. It took me half a year to write this chapter, I'm glad this off my shoulders. I also post this on Fanfiction.net under the same name and username, Rellah.
> 
> So I can be a good samaritian and avoid plagarism, I based the title off Hervey Cleckley's novel, The Mask of Sanity. I only wish I thought of that first.
> 
> Follow my Instagram, The_Sole_Commander, and my Tumblr, apoeticproblem, for updates on this story. Also for me to discuss futher about my writings and the topics I care about.
> 
> Be sure to subscribe if you want to, or leave a comment. I don't care whether or not you think it's trash, I would still love to hear what you have to say!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading my first story!


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